LIFEFORM

Our love is our babyThe baby we’ll never haveA hundred years agoWe’d have fourteen kidsYou’d come homeHands and feet blackTo a room full of love

Our love was a fetusPink glowing angel mix of usYou put it inside meTo incubateA digital lifeformI could see through my skin

The birth was hardIt’s in our handsSometimes mineSometimes yoursSometimes bothWe have dreams for itPerfectionsButIt cries

TAKE MY HAIR

Take my hairLike beforeTake me into the woodsDrag me into the woodsI want to kiss you

Put me against that treeWet morning treeUse your other hand nowI’m helplessHand in my dressCaptured by a bad manNobody for milesI’m going to get molestedAnd leave my knickers thereFor the perverts

THIS MORNING

Done until I limpedInto the sunEvery man looked at meSo curiousI think they could smell meSmell what he didHow I liked itThey wanted a bit

There was light in everythingInner light – clearNot normally visibleLike what I saw in himMy PrinceLight in the treesLeaning inThey could smell me tooRaw like themRaw as nature is

Karina Bush

Karina Busch is an Irish writer and visual poet, born in Belfast and now living in Rome. She is the author of three books, ‘BRAIN LACE’ (BareBackPress, 2018), ‘50 EURO’ (BareBackPress, 2017), and ‘MAIDEN’ (48th Street Press, 2016). She is currently finishing up a collection of short stories set in Belfast. For more visit her website karinabush.com and Instagram